The Cruelest Joke
by BSMNoVA
Summary: One the anniversary of his greatest loss, will Batman survive his archenemy's most twisted, cruelest joke?


**Author's Note:**

_This is my first attempt at fanfic, so any reviews would be welcomed. _

_None of the characters are mine, all belong to DC._

**Chapter 1**

Another summer night in Gotham City, just after dusk. As the thick black snuffs the last of the day's light and darkness fully engulfs the city, a crescent moon hangs overhead like a mocking grin. Usually on these nights, he looks out over the city from his vantage point thirty stories high and can feel the change. Like a storm gathering on the horizon, the criminal element begins to stir and rumble as the good people of Gotham make their way swiftly for the relative safety of their homes. Tonight is no different. It is never any different. Not since one fateful night, so long ago. He closes his eyes to fight off the sense of loss, and sees the muzzle flash in his mind, watches them fall lifeless. Opening his eyes he snarls. Every year it happens, the same feeling, the same visions. June 26, the night they were taken from him.

_"Bruce…?" _The voice in his ear sounds concerned.

He focuses on the building across the street. Touching a finger to the side of his cowl, he feels the tiny buttons and presses the one just under his eye. As the telescopic lenses lower into place and the building seems to enlarge as his vision zooms in, he replies, "I'm fine, Barbara. What do you have?"

Whether or not she believes him, he cannot tell in her voice as she briefs him. _"It took a bit of doing but I'm in their system. So far I see no evidence that they're a front for anything. Row Chemicals, founder and CEO Martha Thomas, is a privately held company with no links to anything illegal or even questionable. Are you sure the tip was sound?"_

He considers the question, something seems wrong but he is not able to figure out exactly what. "As valid as any from a scared henchman; the Joker's goon said this is where he picked up the chemicals used in the Arkham escape. He wasn't lying."

_"He knows better. They all do by now." _He can hear her fingertips tapping away in the background, along with something else he can barely make out. As he moves along the ledge to a better vantage point, she continues, _"I'm not finding anything. No shipments of any of the chemicals he would need. No shipments of any chemicals, of any kind."_

"What? But they're a chemical company. Why…?" The thing that has been gnawing at the back of his mind suddenly comes into focus. "Barbara, you said you had trouble getting into their system?"

_"Yes. Not much, mind you, but it was clear they're worried about their security. They don't have a particularly strong defense, more of a labyrinth of code, it took hours to…"_

"Barbara, get out of the system. Back out of it now!" He waits for her response. Nothing comes. "Barbara?"

A familiar voice answers, a haunting sound in his ear sending a chill through him, _"She can't come to the phone right now, Bats. At the tone, please begin to panic." _A bicycle horn honks twice in his ear, and then there is only static.

* * *

><p>The Joker removes the earpiece and tosses it across the room. He hops up to sit on the console and looks at the woman in the wheelchair, grinning as he does. Around them his goons pour gasoline over everything, working quickly. His stark white face is gaunt, his green hair mangy, his red lips cracked and dry, but the light in his eyes sparkles as he admires her. He primps, checking the collar of his purple suit and smoothing his jacket before crossing his legs and leaning nonchalantly on one arm. "So, Babs, you come here often?"<p>

A vibration in his pocket draws his attention. "Hold that thought." He reaches into his right pants pocket and retrieves a set of wind-up teeth that are currently motionless. The vibrating continues. He looks perplexed, then slaps his hand to his forehead and reaches into his left inside jacket pocket, retrieving a cell phone. "Go for Joker. Yes. Good, good. Now burn it, and remember the camera. Daddy likes home movies."

He ends the call and slips the phone back into his pocket. From another pocket he pulls a lighter, which he snaps open and ignites, tossing it lazily off to one side. He seems not to notice the flames as he turns his attention back to her. He squints at her, studies her for a long moment. "You know, Babs, there's something different about you. " He shrugs. "Oh well. Where was I? Right, of course, tonight's fun. Good news! You're playing a leading role. I know you can't wait, I can see it written all over your face. What's that? No, don't worry, you won't have any lines. Just remember to hit your mark and keep smiling."

He stands up and walks past her, whistling a happy tune and patting her on the shoulder as he goes. Her head lolls to one side, her face contorted in a wide horrifying grin, her dull lifeless eyes reflect the firelight as a maniacal laugh echoes in the night.


End file.
